Stay

9

EVIE 

There’s a suffocating heat radiating through my every inch. I struggle to move my body from the heat’s firm grasp only to remain still. My tired eyes fluttered open expecting to see the familiar white of my bedroom wall. However, I’m unpleasantly surprised to see blues and reds of a familiar quilted blanket. Using a free arm, I push the blanket down, but it doesn’t go very far. A head of blonde hair is blocking my view. 

Niall. 

I struggle to move my legs, Niall’s heavy body holding me in place. With every ounce of strength that I could muster up, I use my arms to push myself up, only to stay still. Glancing over the blanket, I notice that Niall is holding me tightly. Of course... 

Squirming and wiggling my body, I hope that I wake him or at least have him loosen his death grip. Fortunately, Niall groans but his arms loosen around me. Slipping up, with the help of my forearms, I bring my knees up to my chest. I manage to escape the tight confines of Niall’s arms and quilt, moving my legs over and off the couch. 

The apartment is dark. There’s a tiny stream of light coming from the far kitchen window and the dim black screen from the unused television. Rifling through the mess of empty pizza boxes and empty glasses, I hunt for my phone. Underneath a used napkin, I find Niall’s. 

5:48 AM 

I groan quietly sending silent curses to my stupid internal alarm clock. I guess when you wake up consistently for four days straight at six in the morning, your body get’s used to it. Being that I was wide awake, it only made sense to go for a run. 

Picking up my house keys, I tip toe my way over to the door, careful to not wake up Niall. He is still settled against the couch. His arms now wrapped around the quilt. His messy bed head pressed against his forehead. He doesn’t stir... staying fast asleep. 

Not even bothering with slipping on my shoes, I open the front door quietly.  My own apartment is freezing cold. I must have left the heater off all night. Of course I would... because I love living in an ice box. Who needs to book a flight to Antarctica when I could just go into my own apartment. 

I’m a human popsicle... Feeling slightly bit rushed, I hurry through the living room and towards my bedroom.

I slip off my clothes and change into a fresh pair of running shorts and sweater. Quickly tying my shoes, I head out and lock the door behind me. 

Outside is equally cold. The late October sun feeling like ice against my already frostbitten cheeks. Stretch... stretch... stretch... I warm up my muscles, careful that every inch is ready to go. I keep my pace slow. The activities of last night slowly hitting my body. The copious amounts of pizza and candy that I had consumed last night sitting uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach. 

Twenty minutes or so later, I call it a quits. This was good enough for today. It was Sunday after all. The day of rest... or so they say. I head back to the apartment, carefully running up the stairs. 

I am taken back when I see a figure waiting outside my door, staring down at his feet.  

“Niall?” 

He looks up at me, his shoulders falling down in relief. He was now changed into a fleece sweater, the print resembling something you’d find at a tacky Christmas shop. I bite my tongue, holding back the snarky remarks I wanted to make regarding his outfit change. “What are you doing...” I ask him, brows furrowed in confusion. 

He sighs, his hands pushed into the pockets of his sweat pants. “You ran out of my place fast this morning. I feel used,” he smirks. A playful hint to his eyes.